The Quest ...
Sep. 15th, 2003 04:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lollardfishAnd so, off into the construction-ridden streets I went, seeking ... the holy grail? Well, as luck would have it, there is something like the Holy Grail in Genoa. It's a beautiful late medieval glass bowl, brought to Genoa in the 12th century, probably from Caesarea which fell to Christian forces in the first crusade.
But that wasn't my goal.
And, alas, in the end, like the knights of every quest for the grail except for Harrison Ford (and company) and Sir Bors, my quest ended in vain and with slightly sore knees.
----
With some regret, I left Riomaggiore and the Cinque Terre behind, feeling a bit sad really as the perfect, terraced coastline faded away behind the train, replaced by less fanciful towns and cities, boring beaches (rather than the rocky little promenandes in the Cinque Terre), and, eventually, Genova. I was actually fairly relieved to make it to the city, as at some point a person joined my row of seats with a highly pungent opinion on personal hygiene. I mean, I don't want to sound culturally insensative, and surely there are times when I am less than spotlessly scrubbed (or, say, after eating the pasta sauce I made last night with spicey salami and loads of garlic, my breath might have been a bit draconian), but honestly ... it is not ok to smell like the local garbage bins! And the local garbage bins have rotting fish in them! Anyway, it was a short trainride, and I was glad to be rid of it.
So, Genoa.
Venice may have lost the battle, but it won the war of the Italian port cities. Come to think of it, it probably didn't lose all that many battles. And if the war is determined by one's relative rolls in Mediterranean trade, then actually Genoa today wins, as it is a much more active port than Venice (or anywhere near it). That said, Venice is wonderful and comfortable, and Genoa, though no less filled with fascinating things and places, is dark and a little scary. The city sprawls up several hills and along a long waterfront, and like any city has its industrial, commericial, touristy, academic, residential, and other districts. Fair enough, no real city can be, or should be, geared to the tourist everywhere. People need to get around, they need big roads to handle the cars and scooters, they need giant docks for the big ships, and big warehouses nearbye. None of these are going to be pretty. The problem is that even in Genoa's historic central area, a place truly rich in heritage and sights, too many people scowl, too much light is cut off, and I would not feel comfortable there in the evening.
Perhaps it's just all the construction, and things will get better. Genoa has been selected as the 'European capital of culture' for 2004, presumably a roving EU event, and preparations are well underway. First of all there are lots of signs everywhere, big and small, to let us know about it. They are going to have special exhibits and festivals, celebrations of the monuments, sacred sites, and artists who have graced this city over its long centuries of prominence. But the streets in the center hold to the medieval plan, and are quite narrow. Scaffolding seems to ascend every building, and in the narrow streets they completely block out the lights. There are a lot of bad smells (rotting fish again) and unclear paths. There are signs everywhere, but routes they want you to take are counterintuitive.
In one perfect little Piazza, La piazza di S. Matteo, there is what could be an ideal tourist site. The medieval church (horridly baroqueified, as usual) dominates the square where the Doria family held sway. Genoa, like many medieval Italian cities, had a group of prominant familes who ruled over the city in one form or another, and built little compounds around piazzas. In the piazza is ofte a palazzo, a church, a well, and now various other sorts of houses. Some of them, like in Florence, were heavily fortified and could be used for defense when family feuds went bloody. Anyway, this place is spectacular. The medieval Genoese built their buildings with alternating shades of gray and white granite (I assume it's granite. It looks like granite. I'm just not a rock guy. I'm a relic guy), so they are striped. The visual effect is quite striking. So the small chruch and palace are still standing here, and give you a real feel of what it might have been like.
But the church had no signs to tell you what's what. There was a little plaque off in the corner, but the text wasn't all that helpful. It did point out a perfect little cloister off the church, saying it was one of the most beautiful spots in Genoa, and demonstrated the connections between Palazzo and Church. The cloister was locked off, and I could peek through the grate, but not really see it. There were no signs anywhere to indicate when it might be open. Ah well ... Maybe it's just that the Europeans have all gone back to college now, and the press of tourists has been reduced, and people are slacking off now.
I did eventually make it to the Cathedral of San Lorenzo, another striking building both inside and out. It has a feel of use to it, rather than being a tourist attraction, and although the smell of incense made me sneeze (I not have a slight head cold), I rather liked it. The treasury was one of the highlights of my trip so far. After the First Crusade, Genoa somehow (it's not a story I know, but one I do need to learn about) came into possession of the ashes of St. John the Baptist, as well as a Roman plate believed to be the platter on which his head was presented. Genoa and St. John rivalled Venice and San Marco, and Venice's later acquisition of the arm of St. John after the Fourth Crusade was deliberately used to undermine Genoa's special status (something I write about). Anyway, the little treasury museum is very nicely laid out with a good guide describing each piece. I find it often quite difficult to find medieval reliquaries, as, quite often, the medieval container was replaced by a more ornate Baroque one. For example, St. Lorenzo, to whome the Cathedral is dedicated, is in a big 1828 silver statue. It is, I think, ugly, and useless to me as a scholar. I would love to see how he was stored and presented in the Middle Ages. But the actual container of St. John's ashes is a big golden ark made by 15th century Ligurian artists. Then there is the Roman plate, dating from the first century, and made of chalcedony, a translucent semi-precious stone. Next, there is a small box, or an ark as they called it, that depicts the life of St. John and was given to the church by Frederick Barbarossa in 1178, and it is right next to the bull of consecration of the Cathedral by Pope Gelasius II in 1118.
In another room, though, were the real finds for me. The 'croce degli Zaccaria' is a 13th century byzantine golden cross-reliquary. It contains a relic of the true cross (I am not, here, gonna get into the discussion of authenticity with relics) enclosed in glass on the front of the cross, is quite nicely but simply engraved and bejeweled, and may be the best medieval true cross reliquary I have yet seen. It made me very happy to get that mental image. Also, there is the 11th century arm-reliquary of St. Anne, still wearing medieval rings on the finger, which spent a fair amount of time in Genoa's colony in Constantinople (yet another story for me to track) and a 14th century reliquary of the arm of St. James, of origin unclear (at least to me).
Venice has some dozens of these arm reliquaries, all stacked on shelving in one room, and one can't approach closely to see them. This chance in Genoa was, in fact, anticipated (these relics were why I came to Genoa, mostly), but lived up to expectations. I am very happy.
But still nothing on the object of my quest! I skipped by the lovely 9th century (I am guessing wildly here) byzantine glass bowl formerly thought to be the Holy Grail by some eager, or gullible, crusader type and set off back into the city, heading for the Palazzo Tursi. There, I hoped, I would find it ... Paganini's violin, the "Guarneri di Gesu." It is apparantly quite lovely, and the violinist himself called it, 'Il Cannone' -- the Cannon, for its powerful voice. It's just kept in some case in the Municiple building (Genoa's courthouse, essentially) and can, I am told, be viewed. It gets played once a month by a violinist whose job is, essentially, to play one of the great violins around. The winner of a big contest in October gets to play it too.
Anyway, I followed signs, I wandered about, I found myself near a lot of construction with 'Genova 2004' signs everywhere, and eventually I gave up. I had climbed a lot of steps. I was tired. People were glaring at me. Offices were emptying. My quest unfufilled.
Still, I have a new quest!
Genoa is famous for its pesto. Yum. Pesto.
Bye bye ...
But that wasn't my goal.
And, alas, in the end, like the knights of every quest for the grail except for Harrison Ford (and company) and Sir Bors, my quest ended in vain and with slightly sore knees.
----
With some regret, I left Riomaggiore and the Cinque Terre behind, feeling a bit sad really as the perfect, terraced coastline faded away behind the train, replaced by less fanciful towns and cities, boring beaches (rather than the rocky little promenandes in the Cinque Terre), and, eventually, Genova. I was actually fairly relieved to make it to the city, as at some point a person joined my row of seats with a highly pungent opinion on personal hygiene. I mean, I don't want to sound culturally insensative, and surely there are times when I am less than spotlessly scrubbed (or, say, after eating the pasta sauce I made last night with spicey salami and loads of garlic, my breath might have been a bit draconian), but honestly ... it is not ok to smell like the local garbage bins! And the local garbage bins have rotting fish in them! Anyway, it was a short trainride, and I was glad to be rid of it.
So, Genoa.
Venice may have lost the battle, but it won the war of the Italian port cities. Come to think of it, it probably didn't lose all that many battles. And if the war is determined by one's relative rolls in Mediterranean trade, then actually Genoa today wins, as it is a much more active port than Venice (or anywhere near it). That said, Venice is wonderful and comfortable, and Genoa, though no less filled with fascinating things and places, is dark and a little scary. The city sprawls up several hills and along a long waterfront, and like any city has its industrial, commericial, touristy, academic, residential, and other districts. Fair enough, no real city can be, or should be, geared to the tourist everywhere. People need to get around, they need big roads to handle the cars and scooters, they need giant docks for the big ships, and big warehouses nearbye. None of these are going to be pretty. The problem is that even in Genoa's historic central area, a place truly rich in heritage and sights, too many people scowl, too much light is cut off, and I would not feel comfortable there in the evening.
Perhaps it's just all the construction, and things will get better. Genoa has been selected as the 'European capital of culture' for 2004, presumably a roving EU event, and preparations are well underway. First of all there are lots of signs everywhere, big and small, to let us know about it. They are going to have special exhibits and festivals, celebrations of the monuments, sacred sites, and artists who have graced this city over its long centuries of prominence. But the streets in the center hold to the medieval plan, and are quite narrow. Scaffolding seems to ascend every building, and in the narrow streets they completely block out the lights. There are a lot of bad smells (rotting fish again) and unclear paths. There are signs everywhere, but routes they want you to take are counterintuitive.
In one perfect little Piazza, La piazza di S. Matteo, there is what could be an ideal tourist site. The medieval church (horridly baroqueified, as usual) dominates the square where the Doria family held sway. Genoa, like many medieval Italian cities, had a group of prominant familes who ruled over the city in one form or another, and built little compounds around piazzas. In the piazza is ofte a palazzo, a church, a well, and now various other sorts of houses. Some of them, like in Florence, were heavily fortified and could be used for defense when family feuds went bloody. Anyway, this place is spectacular. The medieval Genoese built their buildings with alternating shades of gray and white granite (I assume it's granite. It looks like granite. I'm just not a rock guy. I'm a relic guy), so they are striped. The visual effect is quite striking. So the small chruch and palace are still standing here, and give you a real feel of what it might have been like.
But the church had no signs to tell you what's what. There was a little plaque off in the corner, but the text wasn't all that helpful. It did point out a perfect little cloister off the church, saying it was one of the most beautiful spots in Genoa, and demonstrated the connections between Palazzo and Church. The cloister was locked off, and I could peek through the grate, but not really see it. There were no signs anywhere to indicate when it might be open. Ah well ... Maybe it's just that the Europeans have all gone back to college now, and the press of tourists has been reduced, and people are slacking off now.
I did eventually make it to the Cathedral of San Lorenzo, another striking building both inside and out. It has a feel of use to it, rather than being a tourist attraction, and although the smell of incense made me sneeze (I not have a slight head cold), I rather liked it. The treasury was one of the highlights of my trip so far. After the First Crusade, Genoa somehow (it's not a story I know, but one I do need to learn about) came into possession of the ashes of St. John the Baptist, as well as a Roman plate believed to be the platter on which his head was presented. Genoa and St. John rivalled Venice and San Marco, and Venice's later acquisition of the arm of St. John after the Fourth Crusade was deliberately used to undermine Genoa's special status (something I write about). Anyway, the little treasury museum is very nicely laid out with a good guide describing each piece. I find it often quite difficult to find medieval reliquaries, as, quite often, the medieval container was replaced by a more ornate Baroque one. For example, St. Lorenzo, to whome the Cathedral is dedicated, is in a big 1828 silver statue. It is, I think, ugly, and useless to me as a scholar. I would love to see how he was stored and presented in the Middle Ages. But the actual container of St. John's ashes is a big golden ark made by 15th century Ligurian artists. Then there is the Roman plate, dating from the first century, and made of chalcedony, a translucent semi-precious stone. Next, there is a small box, or an ark as they called it, that depicts the life of St. John and was given to the church by Frederick Barbarossa in 1178, and it is right next to the bull of consecration of the Cathedral by Pope Gelasius II in 1118.
In another room, though, were the real finds for me. The 'croce degli Zaccaria' is a 13th century byzantine golden cross-reliquary. It contains a relic of the true cross (I am not, here, gonna get into the discussion of authenticity with relics) enclosed in glass on the front of the cross, is quite nicely but simply engraved and bejeweled, and may be the best medieval true cross reliquary I have yet seen. It made me very happy to get that mental image. Also, there is the 11th century arm-reliquary of St. Anne, still wearing medieval rings on the finger, which spent a fair amount of time in Genoa's colony in Constantinople (yet another story for me to track) and a 14th century reliquary of the arm of St. James, of origin unclear (at least to me).
Venice has some dozens of these arm reliquaries, all stacked on shelving in one room, and one can't approach closely to see them. This chance in Genoa was, in fact, anticipated (these relics were why I came to Genoa, mostly), but lived up to expectations. I am very happy.
But still nothing on the object of my quest! I skipped by the lovely 9th century (I am guessing wildly here) byzantine glass bowl formerly thought to be the Holy Grail by some eager, or gullible, crusader type and set off back into the city, heading for the Palazzo Tursi. There, I hoped, I would find it ... Paganini's violin, the "Guarneri di Gesu." It is apparantly quite lovely, and the violinist himself called it, 'Il Cannone' -- the Cannon, for its powerful voice. It's just kept in some case in the Municiple building (Genoa's courthouse, essentially) and can, I am told, be viewed. It gets played once a month by a violinist whose job is, essentially, to play one of the great violins around. The winner of a big contest in October gets to play it too.
Anyway, I followed signs, I wandered about, I found myself near a lot of construction with 'Genova 2004' signs everywhere, and eventually I gave up. I had climbed a lot of steps. I was tired. People were glaring at me. Offices were emptying. My quest unfufilled.
Still, I have a new quest!
Genoa is famous for its pesto. Yum. Pesto.
Bye bye ...
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no subject
Date: 2003-09-15 10:26 pm (UTC)Anyone can walk to see an object of breathtaking beauty, but in this age of marvels, it is so easy to go, 'Oh look, another gold thing.' How wonderful it is, isntead, to experience these things with both the wonder and knowledge of someone with the true desire to appreciate. In some ways, it's better than standing in front of it myself. But I'd rather be standing there with you!